Surrounded by a Polish, two Germans, an Italian and a Chinese, I wondered whom to answer first. I wondered where was Pritha. I was in desperate need of some help down here. I shot back a glance at the breakfast counter. No sign of Pritha. Till that day I have always despised hostels. To me, the definition of hostel had been 'Strict in-timing, tasteless food and Hitler-like wardens'. Well that was a college hostel in Chennai that I had experienced almost 9 years back. This one in Venice, was a different kind of hostel. The one I was in - Generator Hostel - is a traveler’s hostel that has chains all over Europe. Fighting a lot of prejudice, I had booked two beds in a 3 bedded female dormitory there, as the hotels in Venice were too expensive for our pockets.

Back to my story again…

I had just settled on a table with my breakfast tray, when the guy next to me asked me if I was Indian. As I turned my head to look at him, my heart stopped right there. If you know how a chiseled Italian man looks like, you would know why I had that reaction. But before I could find my lost voice and reply ‘Yes’ to him, an array of question was shot at me from at least 4 more people sharing the same table. I shot back a glance at the breakfast counter. No sign of Pritha. Fine! I thought… I have got to glorify India alone.

As a start, I shot a dazzling smile to the Italian man, batted my eye lashes flirtatiously and replied “Yes! How did you figure that out?”

His voice sounded like music to me. I murmured a ciao to him. But before I could dive deeper into a tête-à-tête with the handsome Giovanni, I suddenly remembered that I have 4 sets of curious eyes on me.

‘Ok, Neighbors first!’ I thought…

I turned to the Chinese guy and said “No, I have not had the privilege to meet Shahrukh Khan yet, though I stay in the same city as his.”

“I looovvve Charukh Kan” chirped the Chinese.

I wanted to say ‘Hindi Chini Bhai Bhai’, but I shut my big mouth just in time and roared “Oh! I love him too!”

I turned to the Polish girl. Her name was Ewa and that somehow kept reminding me of Wall-E. Ewa was sharing the dormitory with me and Pritha and had been talking only about sari since the time we checked in yesterday. She wanted to know how we tie a sari. Now how was I supposed to explain that to her on a breakfast table and without a sari? Technology came to rescue.

“There are videos on YouTube that explain how to wear a sari. But of course, you need a saree for that Eeeewa!” I said laughingly. A split second later, I realized I had just called her Wall-E style.

“Oh I already have a 9 yard sari! It’s a little longer than the normal ones right?” asked Ewa. She didn’t seem to notice that I had distorted her name. And I didn’t want to know where she got the sari from.

“Yeah…” I took a wild guess and fervently prayed that the next question shouldn’t be about the standard length of a sari, for I had no clue about that. After all, my sari craze sets in only once a year during Durga Puja.

I turned to the Germans – Alex and Jerry. What exactly had they asked? I don’t remember! May be they guessed as much. They smiled in a friendly manner, turned the question & answer session to a two-way conversation and told me how one of their German friend had an Indian style wedding. The couple was just fascinated by a Hindu wedding that they had once attended and decided to get married that way.

Wow! I thought and here I was, someone who has always been fascinated by their white wedding gown.

And the conversations went on from weddings to Holi to tandoori chicken and what not. They were just fascinated by an Indian amongst them. It was amazing how I had been their center of attention for the last 15 minutes.

Just then someone from the next table asked, “How come you speak English so well?”

Shocked, I looked around to check who had asked the question. But before I could answer, my new friends replied in chorus – “Like we all do!” Generator Hostels changed my perspective of hostels and when I am not couchsurfing while traveling, I choose hostels over hotels. It is a great way of meeting people and making new friends.

**********************************************************

La Bella Vita...

That evening I stood at the Rialto bridge and watched the sun set over the Adriatic sea, with Giovanni by my side. Umm… And also Pritha on the other side, who kept rolling her eyes at me for bringing the Italian along.

So I whispered to her with a wink…

‘Babe, He is more Indian than you think!’**********************************************************

Now let’s rewind just 2 minutes back into the memories of my friend Pritha who narrated me this incident on an ISD call from Munich at 2 a.m. one night and called it “hysterically funny”................

The year was 2010. It was a sunny weekend morning in Munich, Germany. Just the perfect day for some exploration. So Pritha and her friends set out to Fussen, from there they planned to head to the Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria.

Neuschwanstein is the fairy-tale castle that had held Walt Disney dumbstruck on a day in the 1930s while he was driving past it and it had eventually inspired him to incorporate the castle as the iconic Disney logo.

So there was Pritha & Co., at Fussen, trying to figure out their way to the bus station to get on a bus to Hohenschwangau, when they spotted a middle aged German gentleman nearby. As in any such situation, the first thing that comes to mind is to approach the locals who can guide you the best and that’s exactly what they did.

“Hello Sir”, they said to the German gentleman and in their broken German continued, “Der Weg zur Bushaltestelle?”(The way to the bus stop?)

What came next was unexpected!

Germany asked “Indians??”

India replied “Yes!”

Germany threw up his hands and triumphantly replied “Raj Kapoor Awaara!!!”- as if he was playing Close Up Antakshari’s buzzer round.

India was bowled over! “Kya poocha aur kya jawab mila...”

And then in his German accent he sang -“Aawaara hoon... Aawaara hoon...

Ya gardish mein hoon aasmaan ka taara hoon... Aawaara hoon....”, and with that he started dancing on the road – Raj Kapoor style. And along he went singing and dancing and forgetting that he had to tell them directions to King Ludwig’s castle.

And what happened to our friends? The Indians were flabbergasted! They were rooted to their spot, probably feeling as dumbstruck as Walt Disney has felt when he had looked upon Neuschwanstein for the first time.

After the brief moment of shocked look on their face, they burst into fits of laughter - hysterically. In shudh desi bhasha it is called "Pet pakad pakad ke hasna!".

“Jai Ho, India!”they said, and looked around to find their next target.

There were reasons that I had not been home for Diwali for the last three years. Most of my leaves get utilized traveling. You see, I am still stuck in dogma. I am still running in the rat race and from within that, I steal myself at times using privileged leaves to fuel my wanderlust. One day I will wake up at the time I want to wake up, go home when I want to go home and when it would come to traveling, I wouldn't have to wait for someone's approval to set sail. That day will come soon, but that's another story.

My home is in a town called Silchar, in Assam. The North Eastern India that is suddenly in everyone's bucket list - yes I grew up there. It takes 30 hours to travel from Mumbai to Kolkata, 20 hours from Kolkata to Guwahati and then 13 hours from Guwahati to Silchar, considering there has been no landslides on the hill that has blocked the road off - a natural disaster which is unpredictable and yet quite common on that route. Oh! I forgot it's the jet age. You can take one flight and whoosh - you can cross the 7 seas. Well in this case, you have to take two flights - Mumbai to Kolkata and Kolkata to Silchar, and you don't need to cross even a single sea. But the catch is, it costs as much as a return trip to Thailand. I know many of you are going to tell me that money doesn't matter, people who love you do. All of that sounds nice, until you get hit by the 5 digit credit card bill.

So there I was, traveling to Europe for the first time last year - just before Diwali. Now for Bengalis, Durga Puja is a much more splendor celebration than Diwali. But heading home just before an International trip was out of question. I had a lot of VISA formalities going on and there was this funny feeling in my stomach that did not let me believe that I was actually flying to Switzerland, till I stepped out of Zurich airport on a rainy morning.

My parents were happy, of course.

But mothers will always be mothers, so she complained, "You get time and leaves to travel far and beyond, yet you have neither time nor leaves, when it comes to coming home!"

My Dad just said "Since you couldn't come for Durga Puja, we thought may be you could head home during Diwali. But now since that possibility is gone, try to come during the winters during Christmas."

"Dad, I am not in school any more!" I said, feeling a little annoyed, "There are no Christmas holidays, except for a day off. But I'll check and see what I can do."

I had to take a Swiss SIM card even for the short 10 days trip because of my over-worried parents. They just wanted a day-to-day update! The day I crossed the Swiss border into Italy, I told my Dad to stop calling me as I can't receive his calls on international roaming.

All he said before disconnecting the call was - "We'll miss you during Diwali."

My expression was - :(

There was this annoyingly buzzing voice at the back of my mind since that day. That voice crept up every now and then, till the day I was back in Zurich and was about to board my flight back to India, when realization suddenly hit me.

I connected my phone to the airport wifi and did what I had to do.

After 9 hours when we were about to land in Mumbai, I looked out of the window and said "Wow". It was the evening of Chhoti Diwali and Mumbai already looked decked up like a bride.

20 hours later

I entered through the door and said "Dad, are you so jobless that you are watching even the repeat telecast of the India vs Australia match?"

He got as startled as someone who has just seen a ghost. Well I admit, I did look like a ghost - a terrible frail one who has just passed through a storm, or rather series of flights.

May be she heard my voice, or may be it was just by motherly intuition that suddenly my Mom came out of the kitchen. What followed was a stream of surprised exclamations and cries that I really can't describe here. All I can say is that it was priceless. And then she said, "You must be so hungry, I'll make you something." About turn and she heads back into the kitchen again.Mothers!

Next came my sister, dashing out of her room. "What the F!" she stopped herself right there realizing Dad's in the same room. "You should have told me at least. You know I can keep a secret!" she complained.

"India won yesterday!" Dad said triumphantly, as he took the backpack. I felt worried as I saw my retired father carry my super heavy backpack to one corner.

"I know" I said, "That's the first news I checked after my flight landed in Mumbai yesterday."

"Like father, like daughter. I can't believe you still got the cricket bug!" he said.

"Travel first. Cricket second." I winked.

And as the camera panned out of our window (use your imagination), the sound of our laughter subdued in the background, you could see our home decorated with diyas and lights. It was Diwali night and I was home! Sigh... And so was my sister. The family was complete. The camera pans further up and you can see a show of firecrackers in the night sky. That was indeed a Happy Diwali!

And all those who were about to tell me that money doesn't matter, love does - you are absolutely right! It took me few months to clear the credit card bill, but I got something way more precious in return - the smile on my parents' faces on that Diwali night.

The cold was biting and the wind blew mercilessly. The auto rickshaw was speeding towards the old city of Jodhpur. I put the backpack on my lap and bent my head down to evade the chilly wind that was making me shiver violently. The last time I had shivered similarly was when I had underestimated the temperature in Zurich one night and dared stroll near River Limmat with only one light jacket on.

But this time, more than myself, I was worried about two senior citizens who were in the same auto with me, bearing the same gush of cold wind. It is one thing to travel solo or with able-bodied friends and fellow travelers. It’s a completely different game if you are traveling with parents who are not as hale and hearty as they were in those good old days.

Day 1, January 22 2014, Wednesday: Our bus from Ahmedabad had arrived at Jodhpur earlier than expected at 5 a.m. on a cold and dark winter morning. The auto that we had hired dropped us unceremoniously in front of a dark lane in the old city. In the little light of a nearby street lamp, I finally spotted an arrow pointing inside the alley, beside the words 'Castle View Homestay'. Thankfully mothers don't use swear words, but she kept cursing all the way till we reached the homestay through the narrow, dirty and stinky approach. The door was shut - that resulted in some more cursing! But the cold was slowly subduing her. I knocked and knocked to no avail. Thankfully there was a couch and a rocking chair in the small verandah and with no options left, we settled into those, waiting for sunrise.

From where we were sitting cringed up in the cold, I could see a vast void in front of me covered in dense fog. For some reason I kept feeling that there was something looming right behind the fog. I kept up my occasional knock-knock on the door, that echoed through the silent lanes. As the sun started to rise, the fog started to clear and so did my doubts. From behind the fog, emerged the Mehrangarh Fort – tall, proud, majestic and formidable! It was tough to believe that the fog had hidden such a huge structure which was on a hill right in front of our homestay.

At 7 a.m. Amit opened the haveli door. Finally!!! I thought… Amit owns this 500 years old haveli turned into a homestay. I was touched by his hospitality when he let us stay in a guest room till our check-in time, for which we were not charged. He introduced me to his cousin and manager Puneet, as he was going out of town for few days. At 11 a.m., Puneet checked us into our room. The room was cozy, with Rajasthani décor, wooden haveli style windows facing the fort and a short wooden door, so short that even someone like me with a mere height of 5.3 feet, hit my head numerous times while entering and exiting the room during my 2 days stay.

Mehrangarh was not a part of our day’s plan as I had invited two friends settled in Jodhpur for lunch, and also because, Puneet had told us one needs almost an entire day to explore the fort. So after a roof-top lunch, we bargained an auto for Rs. 150 for a roundtrip to Umaid Bhavan Palace – the residence of the current Maharaja of Jodhpur.

Though Maharaja Gaj Singh is revered and referred as “Maharaja”, he does not have any royal powers or privileges, as the Govt of India had abolished the payment of privy purse to the former rulers as per the 26th Constitutional Amendment of 1971. Half of his palace has been converted into a Taj Hotel and only guests are allowed into that part. Entry to the part where the royal family stays is also restricted (Of Course!), leaving only the museum on the ground floor accessible to the public. The museum doesn't have anything much of interest unless you are interested to gawp at the expensive gifts that the Maharaja has received from various visiting dignitaries over the years. Instead I found something more gawpable – A picture of Yuvraj Shivraj Singh of Jodhpur. Man! Now that’s what a prince looks like… Unfortunately, he had recently got married. Not really interested in a married man, I turned my attention to Maharaja’s vintage car collection. The automobile gallery bang opposite the palace had some 10-12 exotic cars ranging from Morris Minor to Overland to Pontiac to Buick convertible to Cadillac to Rolls Royce Phantom I and II – a collection worth dying for (Now don't take that too literally!) and collectively better than the handsome married Yuvraj.

On our way back, we picked up Dal Bati Churma and Ghewar. I have had Rajasthani cuisine many a times in the past, but for my parents it was a new experience and by the look of their face when they were gobbling down the dal bati, I could very well assume that they liked it.

I wanted to go for zip lining at Mehrangarh fort, but when I looked at the quizzical look on my mom's face while she asked "Why you want to pay money for putting your own life at risk??", I gave up! Parents... You can never explain adrenaline rush to them. That evening I longingly looked at one of the 6 zip lines that was visible from the homestay, as adventure junkies whooshed pass the line.

I have zip lined across valleys and rivers, but the thought of doing it over an ancient fortified battlement was exciting. I don't know if it had anything to do with my longing but the girl who was zip lining got stuck just then and had to be rescued. Ouch!

As twilight turned into velvet darkness of the night, the fort was bathed in luminous lights. It felt great to sit at the rooftop restaurant with a beer (Umm... Parents were downstairs...) and admire the amazing view. Words are just not enough to describe the feel.

Day 2, January 23 2014, Wednesday: It was our day to explore the Mehrangarh Fort. 'Mehr' in Rajasthani means the Sun. Mehrangarh means the 'Citadel of the Sun'. So stupendous and massive it is, that Rudyard Kipling had written these lines in its honor -

"The work of angels, fairies and giants… built by Titans and colored by the morning sun… he who walks through it loses sense of being among buildings. It is as though he walked through mountain gorges."

The fort built by Rao Jodha in 1459, can be approached through a steep and winding road. We bargained an auto for Rs. 200 roundtrip, including the waiting charge. The auto dropped us at the first gate - the Jaipol or the Victory gate.

Right after Jaipol is the ticket office from where along with 3 tickets, I picked up an audio tour gadget and a headphone. The audio tour starts at the highest level for which one has to take the elevator. It's easy to miss the lift, which is right after the ticket counter. First we walked past it and reached the next gate - the Dodh Kangra Pol, which had cannon ball marks from the battle between Jodhpur and Jaipur Maharajas in the year 1808. One interesting fact about Mehrangarh fort is that it was never ever taken in a siege.

We backtracked our steps till the elevator, which took us to the ramparts. The ramparts have many antique cannons that were once used to protect the fort. It also offered an amazing view of the blue city of Jodhpur. The blue houses have a history. That part of old city is called Brahmpuri. It was a tradition for Brahmins to paint their houses blue to set themselves apart from the rest of the population. Over the years, others followed suit, making the entire old city look blue.

Right next to the ramparts is the Daulat Khana Chowk, which is surrounded by various museum galleries. One of the galleries displays royal elephant howdahs and palanquins. One houses the famous Mahadol palanquin. Right adjacent to that is the Sileh Khana (Weapon gallery), which houses the sword of Akbar and the Khaanda of Rao Jodha, along with other armory.

Upstairs is a gallery of miniature paintings, the Sheesh Mahal embellished with numerous mirrors and the gorgeous Phool Mahal, which has a beautifully gilded ceiling and ornamented interiors. This was where the courtesans danced to entertain the Maharaja and his guests - in short, a pleasure chamber. Next we found ourselves staring into Takhat Vilas, the bedchamber of Takhat Singh, who apparently was a womanizer and had 30 wives and numerous concubines... Ahem! Well since he married so many women, he had to obviously find them place to stay. So right next-door is the Jhanki Mahal with latticed windows, for the Maharanis to peep through the Jali screens and watch the courtyard proceedings from within their private chambers. And right next to that is the Consequence Mahal... Oops sorry! I mean the Cradle gallery, with elaborately crafted cradles for the new born princes and princesses.

The last of the period rooms is the Moti Mahal, pearl-colored and decorated with stained glass windows. This was the main durbar hall, where the Maharaja held his audiences. The courtyard that the room overlooks is called the Moti Mahal Chowk, which has the coronation seat where the Rathod rulers were anointed to rule.

Adjacent to Moti Mahal chowk is the Rang Mahal, where the king played holi with his wives and the Zenana Deodi, the sanctum of the palace where the royal ladies would spend their days, guarded by eunuchs. I had to handover the audio guide after this point. It has taken us two hours to descend through the levels of the fort, but we were not done yet. Or rather my mother, because right after this point is a small bazaar operated by locals and a shop run by Mehrangarh trust. While mom went shopping, I spotted a Rajput newly wed couple exit the adjacent Chamunda Devi temple. It is the same temple where in 2008, over 200 people were killed in a stampede caused by a bomb scare during Navratri. From here we passed through the Suraj Pol and walked downhill on an elephant ramp.

We decided to take a break there and had lunch at Cafe Mehran. The Laal Maas that we ordered was a mellowed down version of the super spicy Rajasthani dish - to suit the westerners' palate. It was nonetheless, very delicious.

As we walked towards the exit, we passed by the haunting sati handprints and the Loha Pol, the original entrance with iron spikes on it. Further downhill, you will pass through the Fatehpol, another Victory Gate. The Rathod Maharajas probably had a tendency to build gates every time they won a battle. There are 8 gates in total, and I don't remember the name of the rest or if I have passed through every one of them.

Clockwise from top left : The bazaar, Musicians playing folk music, Rajput bride and groom,Sati handprints, Rao Jodhaji's Falsa - the original outer limit of the fort

As we walked out, I craned my neck to look up at the gigantic bastions. It indeed felt like the work of giants, or as if I was walking through canyons.

Jharokhas and tall bastions of Mehrangarh Fort

Our next stop was Jaswant Thada - the royal cenotaphs built in marble, 1 km downhill from the fort and next to a small lake.

Jaswant Thada

Back at our homestay, I spent the evening again at the rooftop gazing at the dazzling fort, joined this time by Puneet who told me stories and legends of Jodhpur and its Maharajas and also about places he has traveled to and about his days in Moscow. We were heading to Udaipur the next day but I told him that I will miss Jodhpur, particularly this rooftop joint and the amazing view of Mehrangarh fort from there.